by Ann Granger
Zoe was staring at the map, brow furrowed. "That's Five Acre Bottom. I didn't realise you owned that! It— it's kind, but I'm afraid it won't do."
"What is the problem?" Eric asked a little sharply, raising his bushy eyebrows.
"There are no barns or outbuildings we could convert easily and cheaply to stabling. You see, we also need proper stables. They'd cost a fortune to build. In normal circumstances horses can live out all the year round provided they get some extra feed in the lean months and perhaps a waterproof coat thrown over them in bad weather. But ours are not normal animals. They generally reach us in very bad condition, sometimes at death's door. They're weak and often take a long time to recover. Some, like Maud, never get back to full health. Most are old."
Eric muttered, "They are not normal, I agree."
Zoe flushed and went on aggressively, "Anyway, where would I live? Would the council let me move my caravan there? Actually, I don't think my caravan can be moved! It hasn't got any wheels now, it's just propped up on bricks and if anyone tried to shift it, it would just collapse."
"You cannot continue to live in that rusting trailer!" said Eric vehemently. "Nor would it be necessary. There is an old cottage, just here adjacent. It is only two rooms downstairs and another two upstairs and all very dilapidated. But I am prepared to pay for essential repairs, such as a new roof, to make it habitable." He heaved a
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sigh. "But I cannot solve the problem of stabling and you could not move the animals into the cottage with you—although I do believe you would try!" He drummed his fingers on the map. "You could not launch an appeal?"
"It's not so easy. People are already as generous as you could expect. But we're talking here of several thousand pounds." Zoe shook her head. "No. It's a lovely idea and it's kind of you to offer it, the cottage as well. But it's all so much more complicated than it seems, I'm afraid."
Her companion opened his mouth to reply but before he could speak there was a commotion from the further side of the restaurant. Voices were raised in angry protest. Someone dropped cutlery. Eric frowned. There was clearly a scuffle in progress. Suddenly the palm was violently agitated and a red, furious face appeared amongst its fronds.
"There you are!" the face roared.
"Robin!" Zoe jumped up and now the gin and tonic did tumble over on to its side and spill. "What are you doing here?"
"As I might ask!" snarled Eric. He reached out into the palm and grabbed young Harding, hauling him into the alcove. "How dare you burst into my hotel and cause a commotion? Henri!"
The archduke appeared, much flustered, and flanked by a pair of grim-faced waiters. "Herr Schuhmacher, I am very sorry! He forced his way—"
Eric brushed aside the excuse. "You will escort this person out!" he ordered curtly.
"They bloody won't, you know!" Robin yelled, diving behind Zoe's chair and putting the table between himself and the advancing staff. "What on earth do you think you're doing, Zoe? You thought I wouldn't find out, I suppose? Well, I knew you were up to something and I tracked you here! I waited outside for a reasonable time because I thought you might just have come for a business meeting with him—but you didn't come out
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and now I find you here, hobnobbing tete-a-tete in a hidden corner! Are you out of your mind?"
"Hold your tongue, you revolting youth!" growled Eric. To the trio of staff he snapped, "I shall require explanations later as to how he managed to get in!'
"You're not shutting me up, I'm not afraid of you!" Robin told him, dodging the archduke. "I know your game! Zoe doesn't because she's so damn simple about this sort of thing! All she thinks about is horses and donkeys! Suave men of the world are right out of her ken! But if you think I'm going to stand by and let you seduce—"
The rest was cut off by a ferocious roar from Schuh-macher who leapt forward and seized Harding's jacket lapels. He dragged him bodily from behind the table and thrust him into the ungentle embrace of the two waiters.
"Throw him out before I throttle him! And if he tries to get back in, call the police!"
As Harding was hauled away across the restaurant with its mesmerised occupants, he could be heard yelling, "You haven't heard the last of this! Police? You don't want the police here any more! You've got more than enough to hide! And keep your hands off my girl!"
Silence fell. Eric, ignoring the frozen faces of his customers, put the palm tree straight and sat down. "I regret!" he said stiffly.
"So do I... I mean, I am most awfully sorry." Zoe picked up her napkin and dabbed ineffectually at the puddle left by the spilled drink. "Rob is a bit hasty-tempered sometimes. He doesn't mean any harm—"
"On the contrary. He is a bad lot and I am sure he would do any harm he could, provided he thought he wouldn't be caught!" retorted Eric coldly.
"Oh no, you're wrong!" She stared at him, shocked. Then she looked down at the table in some confusion. "You see, this is quite crazy, but Rob fancies—he thinks he's in love with me. He sort of told me so."
There was a silence. "And you? You are in love with him?" Eric asked bluntly.
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"No, no, of course I'm not! He's a friend and he's been a good friend. I suppose I—I should have told him not to come to the stables any longer, after he'd said— what he said to me the other evening. But I thought he'd get over it. I am so awfully sorry that he said those dreadful things about—about you and, um, me."
"Dreadful things?" said Eric, sitting down heavily. "Well, perhaps he was not so wrong? No, don't misunderstand, please! This is not the time or the place, but I cannot deny I find you a very attractive young woman. Of course I realise that in the past I have not appeared in a very good light to you. I have tried to repair that. I hoped that we could now be friends. Perhaps even, one day—"
Eric stopped, not because of any sound or movement from his companion but because there had been none. He looked at her and saw that her eyes blazed at him with a fury which far transcended her slight frame. She quivered with rage. Her mop of tousled curls fairly bristled. She resembled a small package of high explosive about to be detonated. "Mr. Schuhmacher," she said tightly, "are you saying you offered to relocate the horses' home because in return you were hoping to get me into bed?"
"No!" Eric exclaimed in horror. "Of course not!" There was an icy silence. "Well, not as you express it..." he went on disastrously.
She did not allow him to finish. She put both hands palm down on the damp tablecloth and leaned pugnaciously towards him. "I had begun to think you were quite a nice person. I thought perhaps I'd been wrong. Until you came to the home the other day, I expected nothing but opposition from you! I expected underhand tactics, perhaps bullying! I hadn't expected you to make the offer of a new location for the home and I—I was touched for a moment. I thought you were kind! I must be crazy! You weren't making a kind gesture! It was a—a form of sexual harassment! I see Rob was quite right about you! How despicable can anyone get?"
"I am not sexually harassing you!" yelled Eric.
By now the conversation was being conducted at the top of both their voices but neither cared. In the restaurant beyond anyone could have heard a pin drop. No one even pretended to eat or drink and all ears were strained to the enraged voices coming from behind the potted palm.
44 Well, I suppose that is a modern term for it!" shouted Zoe, crimson-faced and leaping up and down with anger. "But here's one your generation might appreciate more! You are nothing but a dirty old man!"
"I am most certainly not!" roared Eric. "I never heard anything so ridiculous in my life! If I wanted to seduce someone would I try to do it in my own restaurant in front of my staff and guests?"
"How do I know what you'd do? You're capable of anything! I suppose you thought I'd be flattered? Well, I'm not! I haven't got your tacky sense of values! So hear this—you picked the wrong woman! You can try your ploys on someone else, you—you gourm
et romeo! Goodbye, Mr. Schuhmacher! I'm going to find poor Rob and I hope your thugs haven't hurt him!"
Zoe thrust aside the palm tree and walked head high across the silent room. In the doorway she paused and turned to regard the sea of curious, awe-struck faces turned towards her. In the background, through the green fronds of the palm, she could just distinguish Eric's slumped figure. He appeared to have his head in his hands.
"I am now leaving!" Zoe announced to the assembled spectators. "But before I go I would like you to know that I bought the clothes I'm wearing and my purse and this necklace in a charity shop and the whole lot cost me five pounds! When you've finished stuffing your faces here and are paying the exorbitant bill, perhaps you might remember that other people are struggling on pennies to do good, worthwhile work and help those creatures less fortunate than ourselves! Perhaps
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you might even stick a generous donation in the next collecting tin you see!"
She turned and marched past the once-poised receptionist who now appeared near to hysterics.
Meredith Mitchell, who had been lunching modestly in a far corner, emerged cautiously from behind the menu.
Twenty
Eric did not wait for his staff to return. A few moments after Zoe had left the dining room, the fronds of the palm tree quivered and Schuhmacher emerged grim-faced. The diners all immediately averted their eyes and returned to their own conversations and meals. Eric strode across the room ignoring them all until he reached the door where by some mischance he happened to glimpse Meredith from the corner of his eye. He wheeled round and marched up to her table.
"Miss Mitchell! You have finished your lunch? It was satisfactory?''
"Yes, very, thank you!" Meredith replied promptly.
"May I ask you to join me for coffee in my office?" Eric hesitated and added in less peremptory fashion, "Please, I would be most grateful."
It was the last thing she wanted to do, but there was no refusing. Meredith accepted with good grace and allowed Eric to shepherd her from the room, followed by curious stares.
In the entrance lobby, the receptionist had regained some measure of composure and the waiters were returning from having seen Robin Harding off the premises. The head waiter hurried up to Eric and began to apologise again but the hotelier cut him short.
"Later! Bring us coffee to my office!"
When he had settled her in the leather-covered armchair in his office, Eric threw himself into a seat opposite and asked curtly, "You saw and heard?"
"Yes. I'm sorry."
"I have made a fool of myself."
''No!" She leaned forward. "It happened in the dining room and that was unfortunate. But if the young man hadn't followed Zoe here, it would have turned out differently."
4 'We cannot know that, can we?" Eric's glare was both hostile and defensive. ' 'We often like to think that things would be different only if.. . But she would have rejected me anyway, more than likely."
Meredith heaved a sigh. "I don't want to meddle. I feel as if Alan and I have meddled enough already. But you're not going to give up, are you?"
"I was accused of sexual harassment. If I approach her again I shall very likely finish up in court!" Eric fumed silently for a few moments. "I wanted to help. I had a good plan regarding the animal sanctuary and now that's wrecked as well! I could wring that wretched boy's neck!" Eric's powerful hands closed in realistic mime.
"I suppose he can't be blamed—" Meredith began.
"Don't defend him!" Eric leaned forward, jaw thrust out aggressively. "Do you know what is the very worst result of all that happened out there?" He flung a hand towards the door and the general direction of the dining room. ' 'Not that she rejected me, because that is what I had feared anyway. Not that my plan for the animals is ruined, although that's a great pity. No, the worst is, I have driven her into the arms of that young delinquent!"
"You mean Harding?" Meredith eyed Eric thoughtfully as she mentally reviewed what little she knew about Robin. "Why do you call him a delinquent? He's never been in trouble with the law, has he?"
"I know the type. Childish, immature, and like a spoiled brat likely to strike out and hurt anyone near him if he's crossed. Worse, there is a kind of intelligence there, but entirely directed towards self! To think that even now she is comforting him!" Eric got up and turned restlessly up and down the little office, pausing only when the coffee arrived.
When they were alone again, he asked urgently, "Will you go and talk to her?"
"Oh no!" said Meredith promptly, putting down the cup she had just raised to her lips. "Not me. I don't want to get involved in this any farther!"
"She'll listen to you. You are a woman of the world. I mean that as a compliment."
"Even if she does trust me, that's not a reason for me to go and talk to her, it's a reason for me to stay away! Eric, let her simmer down and then you go and see her. Give her time."
"No, there isn't time!" He stood over her, large and pugnacious. "The boy Harding can be the only one to profit by delay. He will have time to fill her head with vile suggestions about me. He is a member of that historical society, too. The whole lot of them have formed a united and vicious conspiracy against me!"
"Zoe's a member," Meredith pointed out.
He dismissed this crossly. "Only because of the animals. I don't include her. There was no need for her to join with them! If she had come to me herself at the beginning ..."
"Or if you had gone to see her at the beginning instead of just sending lawyer's letters threatening the home!" Meredith interrupted.
"Very well, I was at fault!" Eric slapped his massive palms irritably against the arms of his chair. "But now I am trying to put matters right! Do you want to see her hurt? Do you want to see the animals carted off to be destroyed because she won't move them to the new site?"
"No, of course not, and stop trying to twist my arm!" Meredith retaliated. "You could just leave her there, you know, with the animals on the existing site."
"Rubbish. It isn't suitable. Even the veterinary surgeon has told her so. I checked with him, too. And that rusty old trailer? You want her to continue living in that? She will end up with arthritis at thirty! She will finish like the woman who founded the home, Miss Batt! Un-
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able to run it at all because of her health!" He jabbed a forefinger at her to mark his argument and glowered.
There was a long silence. "If I go," said Meredith firmly, "it's on the understanding that this is a one-off visit. I'm not going to be your permanent courier!"
"Of course!" said Eric impatiently.
As Eric and Meredith talked, Zoe was running down the drive of Springwood Hall as fast as she could in the stupid high heels. But tight skirt and heels between them defeated her and cursing both, she slowed to a walk. At the gates she saw that the gardener had been posted already to raise the alarm should Robin try and get back in. She stalked past him head held high.
With less assurance she began the trek back along the roadside towards the Alice Batt Rest Home. The breeze brought a whiff of its familiar odour and led her heart to rise briefly. When she got back, everything would be all right again. She would be herself once more. No more silly pretence. She'd be back with the animals, in her creaky trailer by the ramshackle barn, out of these clothes and into familiar, comfortable ones. Best of all, out of these ridiculous crippling shoes.
"Out of them now, dammit!" she said aloud. She stopped and took them off and holding them in her hand, resumed her way along the grass verge in stockinged feet. The return of freedom was not enough however to buoy up her brief feeling of release. Deep depression overcame her. What an awful mess.
There was a rustle in the hawthorn hedge. Zoe gave a cry of surprise which became an exclamation of relief as Robin emerged from a gap accommodating a five-barred gate. He was red-faced and tousled, his expression grim. His motorcycle was propped up behind him.
"Oh Rob!" said Zoe.
"Are you all right? They didn't hurt you?"
He ignored her query after his well-being. "So you've come to your senses?" he demanded truculently.
She flushed. "Meaning just what?"
"Pretty obvious, I should have thought!" He thrust out his jaw. "What the hell did you think you were going to gain by hobnobbing with that bully?"
"You've got a damn cheek!" The force with which this burst from his slightly built companion caused even Harding to recoil. "Who do you think you are? What gives you the right to tell me what I may do or where I can go or whom I may meet? What business is it of yours?"
He rallied. "I happen to think it's my business because of the way I feel about you!"
"Keep your feelings to your damn self! It isn't your business. The animals are my concern! If I need to talk their welfare over with Eric, I will!"
"Eric? Eric!" roared Robin. "So it's first names now! You silly little bitch, are you so thick you can't see—"
There was a resounding crack as Zoe's palm met his cheek.
Silence followed. Then Harding dragged his motorcycle to the road and flung himself on to the saddle. "Right!" he said hoarsely. "So that's the way of it! Well, nobody makes a fool of me! Not him, not you, not—anyone! You remember that!"
He pulled on his helmet, kicked the powerful machine into life and roared off down the road.
The yard of the Alice Batt Rest Home was deserted when Meredith reached it a little later. The animals grazed in the paddock and raised their heads curiously as she closed the squeaky gate. The two Shetlands moved together to form a mini-phalanx against the intruder and the piebald pony rolled a white eye. No, they were not attractive good causes, more's the pity!
Meredith peered into the gloomy barn but it was empty. The trailer door, however, was ajar, swinging in the breeze and she approached it. "Hullo! Anyone home?"
